


The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

by Zelda Ophelia (ZeldaOphelia)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: Dearsanta, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaOphelia/pseuds/Zelda%20Ophelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter was growing up his aunt would read to him the books about Narnia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alchymie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=alchymie).



> Written for alchymie for the dearsanta exchange.

When Harry Potter was growing up his aunt would read to him the books about Narnia. Technically she read the books to his cousin Dudley, but if he sat very quietly in the hallway outside of Dudley's bedroom, Harry could hear the stories too.

When Harry Potter first received his Hogwarts Letter, he was convinced that Narnia was real. Where else could you find witches and magic and other such fantastical things?

He was more than a little disappointed to discover that Hogwarts was in Scotland, not Narnia. But he pushed those thoughts aside, his attention taken by Quidditch, trolls, and a dark wizard named Voldemort. Narnia was a story, nothing more.

Until the end of the war, as he was helping with the restoration of Hogwarts. He found himself in the Room of Requirement, in the room of hidden things, sorting through old versions of textbooks, tossed bits of parchment, and broken versions of everything imaginable. As he moved things into piles labeled "trash", "salvageable", "useful", and "valuable", he came upon a tall, wooden wardrobe.

It was a bit battered, more than a little imposing, and he could feel magic radiating from deep within the ornately carved wood. There was something powerful about it, this radiant alchemy pouring forth, but healing at the same time. It came in waves, threatening to knock him backwards. But was featherlight as it surrounded him. Harry could feel every ounce of the fear, helplessness, and pain of the past seven years echo around him. But as he reached out to touch the wardrobe, stroke his hands softly down the silky smooth wood, he could feel something else too.

Healing.

Caring.

Hope.

Joy.

Pride.

Understanding.

For the first time since seeing the Great Room, filled with the remains of the lost, since seeing Remus' and Tonks' bodies laid out side by side, Harry could feel a great weight lifting from his shoulders. A weight he thought would lift with Voldemort's death, but hadn't. He had still been The Boy Who Lived, still someone who had been expected to fix everything. The responsibility had still been there. It had still been his problem, his fault. His mess to clean up.

But now it wasn't.

Reverently sliding his hand along the intricate front panel, slowly tracing the relief-carved forest scene, Harry took a deep, calming breath. There was something strange and beautiful about coming across this now. He had reached a point, a very cynical point, where nothing in the Wizarding World surprised him. Or if it did, it was an awful, horrible, people dying in the streets around him kind of surprise. This was beauty. This was life. This was--

"It's real, you know," a soft voice said to his side.

Harry turned to see Luna standing next to him, her large grey eyes tracing the wood carving on the wardrobe. "It-" He paused, grasping for the right words. "It's-- Is it really?"

Luna nodded, turnip earrings dancing with the motion, and reached forward to open the wardrobe. He caught his breath, his heart appearing somewhere in his throat.

The wardrobe opened quietly. He had expected more fanfare. He had expected the waves of magic to come bursting out, overpowering them both. He had expected a lot of things. But not to see the normal looking interior of a typical wardrobe. Nor was he expecting Luna to step up inside, half pushing through the hanging furs before turning to him and holding out her hand.

"Coming, Harry?"


End file.
